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OUTING ADVENTURE LIBRARY
CAPTIVES AMONG THE INDIANS
First-hand Narratives of Indian Wars, Customs,
Tortures, and Habits of Life in Colonial Times
EDITED BY
HORACE KEPHART
NUMBER 3
NEW YORK
OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY
MCMXV
COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY
OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY
All rights reserved
CONTENTS
I COLONEL JAMES SMITH'S LIFE AMONG THE DELAWARES, 1755-1759 9
II FATHER BRESSANI'S CAPTIVITY AMONG THE IROQUOIS, 1644 117
III CAPTIVITY OF MRS. MARY ROWLANDSON AMONG THE INDIANS OF
MASSACHUSETTS, 1676 143
IV CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF MERCY HARBISON, 1792 210
CAPTIVES AMONG THE INDIANS
I
COL. JAMES SMITH'S LIFE AMONG THE DELAWARES, 1755-1759
James Smith, pioneer, was born in Franklin county, Pennsylvania, in
1737. When he was eighteen years of age he was captured by the
Indians, was adopted into one of their tribes, and lived with them
as one of themselves until his escape in 1759.
He became a lieutenant under General Bouquet during the expedition
against the Ohio Indians in 1764, and was captain of a company of
rangers in Lord Dunmore's War. In 1775 he was promoted to major of
militia. He served in the Pennsylvania convention in 1776, and in
the assembly in 1776-77. In the latter year he was commissioned
colonel in command on the frontiers, and performed distinguished
services.
Smith moved to Kentucky in 1788. He was a member of the Danville
convention, and represented Bourbon county for many years in the
legislature. He died in Washington county, Kentucky, in 1812.
The following narrative of his experience as member of an Indian
tribe is from his own book entitled "Remarkable Adventures in the
Life and Travels of Colonel James Smith," printed at Lexington,
Kentucky, in 1799. It affords a striking contrast to the terrible
experiences of the other captives whose stories are republished in
this book; for he was well treated, and stayed so long with his red
captors that he acquired expert knowledge of their arts and
customs, and deep insight into their character. (_Editor._)
In May, 1755, the province of Pennsylvania agreed to send out three
hundred men, in order to cut a wagon-road from Fort Loudon, to join
Braddock's road, near the Turkey Foot, or three forks of Youghiogheny.
My brother-in-law, William Smith, Esq., of Conococheague, was appointed
commissioner, to have the oversight of these road-cutters.
Though I was at that time only eighteen years of age, I had fallen
violently in love with a young lady, whom I apprehended was possessed
of a large share of both beauty and virtue; but being born between
Venus and Mars, I concluded I must also leave my dear fair one, and go
out with this company of road-cutters to see the event of this
campaign; but still expecting that some time in the course of this
summer I should again return to the arms of my beloved.
We went on with the road, without interruption, until near the
Alleghany mountain; when I was sent back in order to hurry up some
provision-wagons that were on the way after us. I proceeded down the
road as far as the crossings of Juniata, where, finding the wagons were
coming on as fast as possible, I returned up the road again towards the
Alleghany mountain, in company with one Arnold Vigoras. About four or
five miles above Bedford, three Indians had made a blind of bushes,
stuck in the ground as though they grew naturally, where they concealed
themselves, about fifteen yards from the road. When we came opposite to
them they fired upon us, at this short distance, and killed my
fellow-traveller, yet their bullets did not touch me; but my horse,
making a violent start, threw me, and the Indians immediately ran up
and took me prisoner. The one who laid hold on me was a Canasatauga,
the other two were Delawares. One of them could speak English, and
asked me if there were any more white men coming after. I told them not
any near that I knew of. Two of these Indians stood by me, while the
other scalped my comrade; they then set off and ran at a smart rate
through the woods, for about fifteen miles, and that night we slept on
the Alleghany mountain without fire.
The next morning they divided the last of their provisions which they
had brought from Fort Du Quesne, and gave me an equal share, which was
about two or three ounces of mouldy biscuit; this and a young
ground-hog, about as large as a rabbit, roasted, and also equally
divided, was all the provision we had until we came to the Loyal
Hannan, which was about fifty miles; and a great part of the way we
came through exceeding rocky laurel-thickets without any path. When we
came to the west side of Laurel hill, they gave the scalp halloo, as
usual, which is a long yell or halloo for every scalp or prisoner they
have in possession; the last of these scalp halloos were followed with
quick and sudden shrill shouts of joy and triumph. On their performing
this, we were answered by the firing of a number of guns on the Loyal
Hannan, one after another, quicker than one could count, by another
party of Indians who were encamped near where Ligonier now stands. As
we advanced near this party, they increased with repeated shouts of joy
and triumph; but I did not share with them in their excessive mirth.
When we came to this camp we found they had plenty of turkeys and other
meat there; and though I never before ate venison without bread or
salt, yet as I was hungry it relished very well. There we lay that
night, and the next morning the whole of us marched on our way for Fort
Du Quesne. The night after we joined another camp of Indians, with
nearly the same ceremony, attended with great noise, and apparent joy,
among all except one. The next morning we continued our march, and in
the afternoon we came in full view of the fort, which stood on the
point, near where Fort Pitt[1] now stands. We then made a halt on the
bank of the Alleghany, and repeated the scalp halloo, which was
answered by the firing of all the firelocks in the hands of both
Indians and French who were in and about the fort, in the aforesaid
manner, and also the great guns, which were followed by the continued
shouts and yells of the different savage tribes who were then collected
there.
[1] Pittsburgh.
As I was at this time unacquainted with this mode of firing and yelling
of the savages, I concluded that there were thousands of Indians there
ready to receive General Braddock; but what added to my surprise, I saw
numbers running towards me, stripped naked, excepting breech-clouts,
and painted in the most hideous manner, of various colors, though the
principal color was vermilion, or a bright red; yet there was annexed
to this black, brown, blue, etc. As they approached, they formed
themselves into two long ranks, about two or three rods apart. I was
told by an Indian that could speak English that I must run betwixt
these ranks, and that they would flog me all the way as I ran; and if I
ran quick, it would be so much the better, as they would quit when I
got to the end of the ranks. There appeared to be a general rejoicing
around me, yet I could find nothing like joy in my breast; but I
started to the race with all the resolution and vigor I was capable of
exerting, and found that it was as I had been told, for I was flogged
the whole way. When I had got near the end of the lines I was struck
with something that appeared to me to be a stick, or the handle of a
tomahawk, which caused me to fall to the ground. On my recovering my
senses I endeavored to renew my race; but, as I arose, some one cast
sand in my eyes, which blinded me so that I could not see where to run.
They continued beating me most intolerably, until I was at length
insensible; but before I lost my senses I remember my wishing them to
strike the fatal blow, for I thought they intended killing me, but
apprehended they were too long about it.
The first thing I remember was my being in the fort amidst the French
and Indians, and a French doctor standing by me, who had opened a vein
in my left arm: after which the interpreter asked me how I did. I told
him I felt much pain. The doctor then washed my wounds, and the bruised
places of my body with French brandy. As I felt faint, and the brandy
smelt well, I asked for some inwardly, but the doctor told me, by the
interpreter, that it did not suit my case.
When they found I could speak, a number of Indians came around me, and
examined me, with threats of cruel death if I did not tell the truth.
The first question they asked me was how many men were there in the
party that were coming from Pennsylvania to join Braddock? I told them
the truth, that there were three hundred. The next question was, were
they well armed? I told them they were all well armed (meaning the arm
of flesh), for they had only about thirty guns among the whole of them;
which if the Indians had known they would certainly have gone and cut
them all off; therefore I could not in conscience let them know the
defenceless situation of these road-cutters. I was then sent to the
hospital, and carefully attended by the doctors, and recovered quicker
than what I expected.
Some time after I was there, I was visited by the Delaware Indian
already mentioned, who was at the taking of me, and could speak some
English. Though he spoke but bad English, yet I found him to be a man
of considerable understanding. I asked him if I had done anything that
had offended the Indians which caused them to treat me so unmercifully.
He said no; it was only an old custom the Indians had, and it was like
"how do you do"; after that, he said, I would be well used. I asked him
if I should be admitted to remain with the French. He said no; and told
me that as soon as I recovered, I must not only go with the Indians,
but must be made an Indian myself. I asked him what news from
Braddock's army. He said the Indians spied them every day, and he
showed me, by making marks on the ground with a stick, that Braddock's
army was advancing in very close order, and that the Indians would
surround them, take trees, and (as he expressed it) _shoot um down
all one pigeon_.
Shortly after this, on the 9th day of July, 1755, in the morning, I
heard a great stir in the fort. As I could then walk with a staff in my
hand, I went out of the door, which was just by the wall of the fort,
and stood upon the wall, and viewed the Indians in a huddle before the
gate, where were barrels of powder, bullets, flints, etc., and every
one taking what suited. I saw the Indians also march off in rank
entire; likewise the French Canadians, and some regulars. After viewing
the Indians and French in different positions, I computed them to be
about four hundred, and wondered that they attempted to go out against
Braddock with so small a party. I was then in high hopes that I would
soon see them fly before the British troops, and that General Braddock
would take the fort and rescue me.
I remained anxious to know the event of this day; and, in the
afternoon, I again observed a great noise and commotion in the fort,
and though at that time I could not understand French, yet I found that
it was the voice of joy and triumph, and feared that they had received
what I called bad news.
I had observed some of the old-country soldiers speak Dutch: as I spoke
Dutch, I went to one of them, and asked him what was the news. He told
me that a runner had just arrived, who said that Braddock would
certainly be defeated; that the Indians and French had surrounded him,
and were concealed behind trees and in gullies, and kept a constant
fire upon the English, and that they saw the English falling in heaps,
and if they did not take the river, which was the only gap, and make
their escape, there would not be one man left alive before sundown. The
morning after the battle I saw Braddock's artillery brought into the
fort; the same day I also saw several Indians in British officers'
dress, with sash, half-moon, laced hats, etc., which the British then
wore.
A few days after this the Indians demanded me, and I was obliged to go
with them. I was not yet well able to march, but they took me in a
canoe up the Alleghany River to an Indian town that was on the north
side of the river, about forty miles above Fort Du Quesne. Here I
remained about three weeks, and was then taken to an Indian town on the
west branch of Muskingum, about twenty miles above the forks, which was
called Tullihas, inhabited by Delawares, Caughnewagas, and Mohicans.
The day after my arrival at the aforesaid town a number of Indians
collected about me, and one of them began to pull the hair out of my
head. He had some ashes on a piece of bark, in which he frequently
dipped his fingers in order to take the firmer hold, and so he went on,
as if he had been plucking a turkey, until he had all the hair clean
out of my head except a small spot about three or four inches square on
my crown; this they cut off with a pair of scissors, excepting three
locks, which they dressed up in their own mode. Two of these they
wrapped round with a narrow beaded garter made by themselves for that
purpose, and the other they plaited at full length, and then stuck it
full of silver brooches. After this they bored my nose and ears, and
fixed me off with earrings and nose jewels; then they ordered me to
strip off my clothes and put on a breech-clout, which I did; they then
painted my head, face, and body in various colors. They put a large
belt of wampum on my neck, and silver bands on my hands and right arm;
and so an old chief led me out in the street, and gave the alarm
halloo, _coo-wigh_, several times repeated quick; and on this, all
that were in the town came running and stood round the old chief, who
held me by the hand in the midst. As I at that time knew nothing of
their mode of adoption, and had seen them put to death all they had
taken, and as I never could find that they saved a man alive at
Braddock's defeat, I made no doubt but they were about putting me to
death in some cruel manner. The old chief, holding me by the hand, made
a long speech, very loud, and when he had done, he handed me to three
young squaws, who led me by the hand down the bank, into the river,
until the water was up to our middle. The squaws then made signs to me
to plunge myself into the water, but I did not understand them; I
thought that the result of the council was that I should be drowned,
and that these young ladies were to be the executioners. They all three
laid violent hold of me, and I for some time opposed them with all my
might, which occasioned loud laughter by the multitude that were on the
bank of the river. At length one of the squaws made out to speak a
little English (for I believe they began to be afraid of me), and said
_no hurt you_. On this I gave myself up to their ladyships, who were as
good as their word; for though they plunged me under water, and washed
and rubbed me severely, yet I could not say they hurt me much.
These young women then led me up to the council-house, where some of
the tribe were ready with new clothes for me. They gave me a new
ruffled shirt, which I put on, also a pair of leggings done off with
ribbons and beads, likewise a pair of moccasons and garters dressed
with beads, porcupine quills, and red hair--also a tinsel-laced cappo.
They again painted my head and face with various colors, and tied a
bunch of red feathers to one of those locks they had left on the crown
of my head, which stood up five or six inches. They seated me on a
bearskin, and gave me a pipe, tomahawk, and pole-cat skin pouch, which
had been skinned pocket fashion, and contained tobacco, killegenico, or
dry sumach leaves, which they mix with their tobacco; also spunk,
flint, and steel. When I was thus seated, the Indians came in dressed
and painted in their grandest manner. As they came in they took their
seats, and for a considerable time there was a profound silence--every
one was smoking; but not a word was spoken among them. At length one of
the chiefs made a speech, which was delivered to me by an interpreter,
and was as followeth: "My son, you are now flesh of our flesh, and bone
of our bone. By the ceremony which was performed this day every drop of
white blood was washed out of your veins; you are taken into the
Caughnewaga nation, and initiated into a warlike tribe; you are adopted
into a great family, and now received with great seriousness and
solemnity in the room and place of a great man. After what has passed
this day, you are now one of us by an old strong law and custom. My
son, you have now nothing to fear--we are now under the same
obligations to love, support, and defend you that we are to love and to
defend one another; therefore, you are to consider yourself as one of
our people." At this time I did not believe this fine speech,
especially that of the white blood being washed out of me; but since
that time I have found out that there was much sincerity in said
speech; for, from that day, I never knew them to make any distinction
between me and themselves in any respect whatever until I left them. If
they had plenty of clothing, I had plenty; if we were scarce, we all
shared one fate.
After this ceremony was over I was introduced to my new kin, and told
that I was to attend a feast that evening, which I did. And as the
custom was, they gave me also a bowl and a wooden spoon, which I
carried with me to the place where there was a number of large brass
kettles full of boiled venison and green corn; every one advanced with
his bowl and spoon, and had his share given him. After this, one of the
chiefs made a short speech, and then we began to eat.
Shortly after this I went out to hunt in company with Mohawk Solomon,
some of the Caughnewagas, and a Delaware Indian that was married to a
Caughnewaga squaw. We travelled about south from this town, and the
first night we killed nothing, but we had with us green corn, which we
roasted and ate that night. The next day we encamped about twelve
o'clock, and the hunters turned out to hunt, and I went down the run
that we encamped on, in company with some squaws and boys, to hunt
plums, which we found in great plenty. On my return to camp I observed
a large piece of fat meat; the Delaware Indian, that could talk some
English, observed me looking earnestly at this meat, and asked me,
"What meat you think that is?" I said I supposed it was bear meat; he
laughed, and said, "Ho, all one fool you, beal now elly pool," and
pointing to the other side of the camp, he said, "Look at that skin,
you think that beal skin?" I went and lifted the skin, which appeared
like an ox-hide; he then said, "What skin you think that?" I replied,
that I thought it was a buffalo-hide; he laughed, and said, "You fool
again, you know nothing, you think buffalo that colo'?" I acknowledged
I did not know much about these things, and told him I never saw a
buffalo, and that I had not heard what color they were. He replied, "By
and by you shall see gleat many buffalo; he now go to gleat lick. That
skin no buffalo-skin, that skin buck-elk-skin." They went out with
horses, and brought in the remainder of this buck-elk, which was the
fattest creature I ever saw of the tallow kind.
We remained at this camp about eight or ten days, and killed a number
of deer. Though we had neither bread nor salt at this time, yet we had
both roast and boiled meat in great plenty, and they were frequently
inviting me to eat when I had no appetite.
We then moved to the buffalo lick, where we killed several buffalo, and
in their small brass kettles they made about half a bushel of salt. I
suppose this lick was about thirty or forty miles from the aforesaid
town, and somewhere between the Muskingum, Ohio, and Sciota. About the
lick was clear, open woods, and thin white-oak land, and at that time
there were large roads leading to the lick, like wagon-roads. We moved
from this lick about six or seven miles, and encamped on a creek.
Some time after this, I was told to take the dogs with me, and go down
the creek, perhaps I might kill a turkey; it being in the afternoon, I
was also told not to go far from the creek, and to come up the creek
again to the camp, and to take care not to get lost. When I had gone
some distance down the creek, I came upon fresh buffalo tracks, and as
I had a number of dogs with me to stop the buffalo, I concluded I would
follow after and kill one; and as the grass and weeds were rank, I
could readily follow the track. A little before sundown I despaired of
coming up with them. I was then thinking how I might get to camp before
night. I concluded, as the buffalo had made several turns, if I took
the track back to the creek it would be dark before I could get to
camp; therefore I thought I would take a near way through the hills,
and strike the creek a little below the camp; but as it was cloudy
weather, and I a very young woodsman, I could find neither creek nor
camp. When night came on I fired my gun several times, and hallooed,
but could have no answer. The next morning, early, the Indians were out
after me, and as I had with me ten or a dozen dogs, and the grass and
weeds rank, they could readily follow my track. When they came up with
me they appeared to be in very good-humor. I asked Solomon if he
thought I was running away; he said, "No, no, you go too much clooked."
On my return to camp they took my gun from me, and for this rash step I
was reduced to a bow and arrows for near two years. We were out on this
tour for about six weeks.
This country is generally hilly, though intermixed with considerable
quantities of rich upland and some good bottoms.
When we returned to the town, Pluggy and his party had arrived, and
brought with them a considerable number of scalps and prisoners from
the south branch of the Potomac; they also brought with them an English
Bible, which they gave to a Dutch woman who was a prisoner; but as she
could not read English, she made a present of it to me, which was very
acceptable.
I remained in this town until some time in October, when my adopted
brother, called Tontileaugo, who had married a Wyandot squaw, took me
with him to Lake Erie. On this route we had no horses with us, and when
we started from the town all the pack I carried was a pouch containing
my books, a little dried venison, and my blanket. I had then no gun,
but Tontileaugo, who was a first-rate hunter, carried a rifle gun, and
every day killed deer, raccoons, or bears. We left the meat, excepting
a little for present use, and carried the skins with us until we
encamped, and then stretched them with elm bark, in a frame made with
poles stuck in the ground, and tied together with lynn or elm bark; and
when the skins were dried by the fire, we packed them up and carried
them with us the next day.
As Tontileaugo could not speak English, I had to make use of all the
Caughnewaga I had learned, even to talk very imperfectly with him; but
I found I learned to talk Indian faster this way than when I had those
with me who could speak English.
As we proceeded down the Canesadooharie waters, our packs increased by
the skins that were daily killed, and became so very heavy that we
could not march more than eight or ten miles per day. We came to Lake
Erie about six miles west of the mouth of Canesadooharie. As the wind
was very high the evening we came to the lake, I was surprised to hear
the roaring of the water, and see the high waves that dashed against
the shore, like the ocean. We encamped on a run near the lake, and, as
the wind fell that night, the next morning the lake was only in a
moderate motion, and we marched on the sand along the side of the
water, frequently resting ourselves, as we were heavily laden. I saw on
the sand a number of large fish, that had been left in flat or hollow
places; as the wind fell and the waves abated they were left without
water, or only a small quantity; and numbers of bald and gray eagles,
etc., were along the shore devouring them.
Some time in the afternoon we came to a large camp of Wyandots, at the
mouth of Canesadooharie, where Tontileaugo's wife was. Here we were
kindly received; they gave us a kind of rough, brown potatoes, which
grew spontaneously, and were called by the Caughnewagas _ohnenata_.
These potatoes, peeled and dipped in raccoon's fat, taste nearly like
our sweet potatoes. They also gave us what they call _canaheanta_,
which is a kind of hominy, made of green corn, dried, and beans, mixed
together.
We continued our camp at the mouth of Canesadooharie for some time,
where we killed some deer and a great many raccoons; the raccoons here
were remarkably large and fat. At length we all embarked in a large
birch-bark canoe. This vessel was about four feet wide and three feet
deep, and about five-and-thirty feet long; and though it could carry a
heavy burden, it was so artfully and curiously constructed that four
men could carry it several miles, or from one landing-place to another,
or from the waters of the lake to the waters of the Ohio. We proceeded
up Canesadooharie a few miles, and went on shore to hunt; but, to my
great surprise, they carried the vessel we all came in up the bank, and
inverted it, or turned the bottom up, and converted it to a
dwelling-house, and kindled a fire before us to warm ourselves by and
cook. With our baggage and ourselves in this house we were very much
crowded, yet our little house turned off the rain very well.
While we remained here I left my pouch with my books in camp, wrapped
up in my blanket, and went out to hunt chestnuts. On my return to camp
my books were missing. I inquired after them, and asked the Indians if
they knew where they were; they told me that they supposed the puppies
had carried them off. I did not believe them, but thought they were
displeased at my poring over my books, and concluded that they had
destroyed them, or put them out of my way.
After this I was again out after nuts, and on my return beheld a new
erection, composed of two white-oak saplings, that were forked about
twelve feet high, and stood about fifteen feet apart. They had cut
these saplings at the forks, and laid a strong pole across, which
appeared in the form of a gallows; and the poles they had shaved very
smooth, and painted in places with vermilion. I could not conceive the
use of this piece of work, and at length concluded it was a gallows. I
thought that I had displeased them by reading my books, and that they
were about putting me to death. The next morning I observed them
bringing their skins all to this place, and hanging them over this
pole, so as to preserve them from being injured by the weather. This
removed my fears. They also buried their large canoe in the ground,
which is the way they took to preserve this sort of a canoe in the
winter season.
As we had at this time no horse, every one got a pack on his back, and
we steered an east course about twelve miles and encamped. The next
morning we proceeded on the same course about ten miles to a large
creek that empties into Lake Erie, betwixt Canesadooharie and Cayahoga.
Here they made their winter cabin in the following form: they cut logs
about fifteen feet long, and laid these logs upon each other, and drove
posts in the ground at each end to keep them together; the posts they
tied together at the top with bark, and by this means raised a wall
fifteen feet long and about four feet high, and in the same manner they
raised another wall opposite to this, at about twelve feet distance;
then they drove forks in the ground in the centre of each end, and laid
a strong pole from end to end on these forks; and from these walls to
the poles they set up poles instead of rafters, and on these they tied
small poles in place of laths; and a cover was made of lynn-bark, which
will run[2] even in the winter season.
[2] Peel.
It was some time in December when we finished this winter-cabin; but
when we had got into this comparatively fine lodging another difficulty
arose--we had nothing to eat. While I was travelling with Tontileaugo,
as was before mentioned, and had plenty of fat venison, bear's meat,
and raccoons, I then thought it was hard living without bread or salt;
but now I began to conclude that, if I had anything that would banish
pinching hunger, and keep soul and body together, I would be content.
While the hunters were all out, exerting themselves to the utmost of
their ability, the squaws and boys (in which class I was) were
scattered out in the bottoms, hunting red haws, black haws, and hickory
nuts. As it was too late in the year we did not succeed in gathering
haws, but we had tolerable success in scratching up hickory-nuts from
under a light snow, and these we carried with us lest the hunters
should not succeed. After our return the hunters came in, who had
killed only two small turkeys, which were but little among eight
hunters and thirteen squaws, boys, and children; but they were divided
with the greatest equity and justice; every one got their equal share.
The next day the hunters turned out again, and killed one deer and
three bears. One of the bears was very large and remarkably fat. The
hunters carried in meat sufficient to give us all a hearty supper and
breakfast. The squaws and all that could carry turned out to bring in
meat; every one had their share assigned them, and my load was among
the least; yet, not being accustomed to carrying in this way, I got
exceedingly weary, and told them my load was too heavy; I must leave
part of it and come for it again. They made a halt, and only laughed at
me, and took part of my load, and added it to a young squaw's, who had
as much before as I carried.
This kind of reproof had a greater tendency to excite me to exert
myself in carrying without complaining than if they had whipped me for
laziness. After this the hunters held a council, and concluded that
they must have horses to carry their loads; and that they would go to
war, even in this inclement season, in order to bring in horses.
Tontileaugo wished to be one of those who should go to war; but the
votes went against him, as he was one of our best hunters; it was
thought necessary to leave him at this winter-camp to provide for the
squaws and children. It was agreed upon that Tontileaugo and three
others should stay and hunt, and the other four go to war.
They then began to go through their common ceremony. They sung their
war-songs, danced their war-dances, etc. And when they were equipped
they went off singing their marching-song and firing their guns. Our
camp appeared to be rejoicing; but I was grieved to think that some
innocent persons would be murdered, not thinking of danger.
After the departure of these warriors we had hard times; and though we
were not altogether out of provisions, we were brought to short
allowance. At length Tontileaugo had considerable success, and we had
meat brought into camp sufficient to last ten days. Tontileaugo then
took me with him in order to encamp some distance from this
winter-cabin, to try his luck there. We carried no provisions with us;
he said he would leave what was there for the squaws and children, and
that we could shift for ourselves. We steered about a south course up
the waters of this creek, and encamped about ten or twelve miles from
the winter-cabin. As it was still cold weather, and a crust upon the
snow, which made a noise as we walked, and alarmed the deer, we could
kill nothing, and consequently went to sleep without supper. The only
chance we had, under these circumstances, was to hunt bear-holes; as
the bears, about Christmas, search out a winter lodging-place, where
they lie about three or four months without eating or drinking. This
may appear to some incredible, but it is well known to be the case by
those who live in the remote western parts of North America.
The next morning early we proceeded on, and when we found a tree
scratched by the bears climbing up, and the hole in the tree
sufficiently large for the reception of the bear, we then felled a
sapling or small tree against or near the hole, and it was my business
to climb up and drive out the bear, while Tontileaugo stood ready with
his gun and bow. We went on in this manner until evening without
success. At length we found a large elm scratched, and a hole in it
about forty feet up, but no tree nigh suitable to lodge against the
hole. Tontileaugo got a long pole and some dry rotten wood, which he
tied in bunches with bark; and as there was a tree that grew near the
elm, and extended up near the hole, but leaned the wrong way, so that
we could not lodge it to advantage, to remedy this inconvenience he
climbed up this tree and carried with him his rotten wood, fire, and
pole. The rotten wood he tied to his belt, and to one end of the pole
he tied a hook and a piece of rotten wood, which he set fire to, as it
would retain fire almost like punk, and reached this hook from limb to
limb as he went up. When he got up with his pole he put dry wood on
fire into the hole; after he put in the fire he heard the bear snuff,
and he came speedily down, took his gun in his hand, and waited until
the bear would come out; but it was some time before it appeared, and
when it did appear he attempted taking sight with his rifle; but it
being then too dark to see the sights, he set it down by a tree, and
instantly bent his bow, took hold of an arrow, and shot the bear a
little behind the shoulder. I was preparing also to shoot an arrow, but
he called to me to stop, there was no occasion; and with that the bear
fell to the ground.
Being very hungry, we kindled a fire, opened the bear, took out the
liver, and wrapped some of the caul-fat round, and put it on a wooden
spit, which we stuck in the ground by the fire to roast; then we
skinned the bear, got on our kettle, and had both roast and boiled, and
also sauce to our meat, which appeared to me to be delicate fare. After
I was fully satisfied I went to sleep; Tontileaugo awoke me, saying,
"Come, eat hearty, we have got meat plenty now."
The next morning we cut down a lynn-tree, peeled bark and made a snug
little shelter, facing the southeast, with a large log betwixt us and
the northwest; we made a good fire before us, and scaffolded up our
meat at one side. When we had finished our camp we went out to hunt;
searched two trees for bears, but to no purpose. As the snow thawed a
little in the afternoon, Tontileaugo killed a deer, which we carried
with us to camp.
Some time in February the four warriors returned, who had taken two
scalps and six horses from the frontiers of Pennsylvania. The hunters
could then scatter out a considerable distance from the winter-cabin
and encamp, kill meat, and bring it in upon horses; so that we
commonly, after this, had plenty of provision.
In this month we began to make sugar. As some of the elm-bark will
strip at this season, the squaws, after finding a tree that would do,
cut it down, and with a crooked stick, broad and sharp at the end, took
the bark off the tree, and of this bark made vessels, in a curious
manner, that would hold about two gallons each; they made above one
hundred of these kind of vessels. In the sugar-tree they cut a notch,
sloping down, and at the end of the notch stuck in a tomahawk; in the
place where they stuck the tomahawk they drove a long chip, in order to
carry the water out from the tree, and under this they set their vessel
to receive it. As sugar-trees were plenty and large here, they seldom
or never notched a tree that was not two or three feet over. They also
made bark vessels for carrying the water that would hold about four
gallons each. They had two brass kettles that held about fifteen
gallons each, and other smaller kettles in which they boiled the water.
But as they could not at times boil away the water as fast as it was
collected, they made vessels of bark that would hold about one hundred
gallons each for retaining the water; and though the sugar-trees did
not run every day, they had always a sufficient quantity of water to
keep them boiling during the whole sugar-season.
About the latter end of March we began to prepare for moving into town
in order to plant corn. The squaws were then frying the last of their
bear's fat and making vessels to hold it; the vessels were made of
deer-skins, which were skinned by pulling the skin off the neck without
ripping. After they had taken off the hair they gathered it in small
plaits round the neck, and, with a string, drew it together like a
purse; in the centre a pin was put, below which they tied a string, and
while it was wet they blew it up like a bladder, and let it remain in
this manner until it was dry, when it appeared nearly in the shape of a
sugar-loaf, but more rounding at the lower end. One of these vessels
would hold about four or five gallons. In these vessels it was they
carried their bear's oil.
When all things were ready we moved back to the falls of
Canesadooharie. On our arrival at the falls (as we had brought with us
on horseback about two hundred weight of sugar, a large quantity of
bear's oil, skins, etc.) the canoe we had buried was not sufficient to
carry all; therefore we were obliged to make another one of elm-bark.
While we lay here a young Wyandot found my books. On this they
collected together. I was a little way from the camp, and saw the
collection, but did not know what it meant. They called me by my Indian
name, which was Scoouwa, repeatedly. I ran to see what was the matter;
they showed me my books, and said they were glad they had been found,
for they knew I was grieved at the loss of them, and that they now
rejoiced with me because they were found. As I could then speak some
Indian, especially Caughnewaga (for both that and the Wyandot tongue
were spoken in this camp), I told them that I thanked them for the
kindness they had always shown to me, and also for finding my books.
They asked if the books were damaged. I told them not much. They then
showed how they lay, which was in the best manner to turn off the
water. In a deer-skin pouch they lay all winter. The print was not much
injured, though the binding was. This was the first time that I felt my
heart warm towards the Indians. Though they had been exceedingly kind
to me, I still before detested them on account of the barbarity I
beheld after Braddock's defeat. Neither had I ever before pretended
kindness, or expressed myself in a friendly manner; but I began now to
excuse the Indians on account of their want of information.
We staid at this camp about two weeks, and killed a number of bears,
raccoons, and some beavers. We made a canoe of elm-bark, and
Tontileaugo embarked in it. He arrived at the falls that night; while
I, mounted on horseback, with a bear-skin saddle and bark stirrups,
proceeded by land to the falls. I came there the next morning, and we
carried our canoe and loading past the falls.
We again proceeded towards the lakes; I on horseback and Tontileaugo by
water. Here the land is generally good, but I found some difficulty in
getting round swamps and ponds. When we came to the lake I proceeded
along the strand and Tontileaugo near the shore, sometimes paddling and
sometimes poling his canoe along.
After some time the wind arose, and he went into the mouth of a small
creek and encamped. Here we staid several days on account of high wind,
which raised the lake in great billows. While we were here Tontileaugo
went out to hunt, and when he was gone a Wyandot came to our camp. I
gave him a shoulder of venison which I had by the fire well roasted,
and he received it gladly; told me he was hungry, and thanked me for my
kindness. When Tontileaugo came home I told him that a Wyandot had been
at camp, and that I gave him a shoulder of roasted venison. He said
that was very well, "and I suppose you gave him also sugar and bear's
oil to eat with his venison." I told him I did not, as the sugar and
bear's oil were down in the canoe, I did not go for it. He replied,
"You have behaved just like a Dutchman.[3] Do you not know that when
strangers come to our camp we ought always to give them the best that
we have?" I acknowledged that I was wrong. He said that he could excuse
this, as I was but young; but I must learn to behave like a warrior,
and do great things, and never be found in any such little actions.
[3] The Dutch he called Skoharehaugo, which took its
derivation from a Dutch settlement called Skoharey.
The lake being again calm, we proceeded, and arrived safe at
Sunyendeand, which was a Wyandot town that lay upon a small creek which
empties into the little lake below the mouth of Sandusky.
The town was about eighty rood above the mouth of the creek, on the
south side of a large plain, on which timber grew, and nothing more but
grass or nettles. In some places there were large flats where nothing
but grass grew, about three feet high when grown, and in other places
nothing but nettles, very rank, where the soil is extremely rich and
loose; here they planted corn. In this town there were also French
traders, who purchased our skins and fur, and we all got new clothes,
paint, tobacco, etc.
After I had got my new clothes, and my head done off like a red-headed
woodpecker, I, in company with a number of young Indians, went down to
the corn-field to see the squaws at work. When we came there they asked
me to take a hoe, which I did, and hoed for some time. The squaws
applauded me as a good hand at the business; but when I returned to the
town the old men, hearing of what I had done, chid me, and said that I
was adopted in the place of a great man, and must not hoe corn like a
squaw. They never had occasion to reprove me for anything like this
again; as I never was extremely fond of work, I readily complied with
their orders.
As the Indians, on their return from their winter hunt, bring in with
them large quantities of bear's oil, sugar, dried venison, etc., at
this time they have plenty, and do not spare eating or giving; thus
they make way with their provision as quick as possible. They have no
such thing as regular meals, breakfast, dinner, or supper; but if any
one, even the town-folks, would go to the same house several times in
one day, he would be invited to eat of the best; and with them it is
bad manners to refuse to eat when it is offered. If they will not eat
it is interpreted as a symptom of displeasure, or that the persons
refusing to eat were angry with those who had invited them.
At this time hominy, plentifully mixed with bear's oil and sugar, or
dried venison, bear's oil, and sugar, is what they offer to every one
who comes in any time of the day; and so they go on until their sugar,
bear's oil, and venison are all gone, and then they have to eat hominy
by itself, without bread, salt, or anything else; yet still they invite
every one that comes in to eat while they have anything to give. It is
thought a shame not to invite people to eat while they have anything;
but if they can in truth only say we have got nothing to eat, this is
accepted as an honorable apology. All the hunters and warriors
continued in town about six weeks after we came in; they spent this
time in painting, going from house to house, eating, smoking, and
playing at a game resembling dice, or hustle-cap. They put a number of
plum-stones in a small bowl; one side of each stone is black, and the
other white; they then shake or hustle the bowl, calling, "_Hits,
hits, hits, honesey, honesey, rago, rago_;" which signifies calling
for white or black, or what they wish to turn up; they then turn the
bowl, and count the whites and blacks. Some were beating their kind of
drum and singing; others were employed in playing on a sort of flute
made of hollow cane; and others playing on the jew's-harp. Some part of
this time was also taken up in attending the council-house, where the
chiefs, and as many others as chose, attended; and at night they were
frequently employed in singing and dancing. Towards the last of this
time, which was in June, 1756, they were all engaged in preparing to go
to war against the frontiers of Virginia. When they were equipped they
went through their ceremonies, sung their war-songs, etc. They all
marched off, from fifteen to sixty years of age; and some boys, only
twelve years of age, were equipped with their bows and arrows, and went
to war; so that none were left in town but squaws and children, except
myself, one very old man, and another, about fifty years of age, who
was lame.
The Indians were then in great hopes that they would drive all the
Virginians over the lake, which is all the name they know for the sea.
When the warriors left this town we had neither meat, sugar, or bear's
oil left. All that we had then to live on was corn pounded into coarse
meal or small hominy; this they boiled in water, which appeared like
well-thickened soup, without salt or anything else. For some time we
had plenty of this kind of hominy; at length we were brought to very
short allowance, and as the warriors did not return as soon as they
expected, we were soon in a starving condition, and but one gun in the
town, and very little ammunition. The old lame Wyandot concluded that
he would go a-hunting in a canoe, and take me with him, and try to kill
deer in the water, as it was then watering time. We went up Sandusky a
few miles, then turned up a creek and encamped. We had lights prepared,
as we were to hunt in the night, and also a piece of bark and some
bushes set up in the canoe, in order to conceal ourselves from the
deer. A little boy that was with us held the light; I worked the canoe,
and the old man, who had his gun loaded with large shot, when we came
near the deer, fired, and in this manner killed three deer in part of
one night. We went to our fire, ate heartily, and in the morning
returned to town in order to relieve the hungry and distressed.
When we came to town the children were crying bitterly on account of
pinching hunger. We delivered what we had taken, and though it was but
little among so many, it was divided according to the strictest rules
of justice. We immediately set out for another hunt, but before we
returned a part of the warriors had come in, and brought with them on
horseback a quantity of meat. These warriors had divided into different
parties, and all struck at different places in Augusta County. They
brought in with them a considerable number of scalps, prisoners,
horses, and other plunder. One of the parties brought in with them one
Arthur Campbell, that is now Colonel Campbell, who lives on Holston
River, near the Royal Oak. As the Wyandots at Sunyendeand and those at
Detroit were connected, Mr. Campbell was taken to Detroit; but he
remained some time with me in this town. His company was very
agreeable, and I was sorry when he left me. During his stay at
Sunyendeand he borrowed my Bible, and made some pertinent remarks on
what he had read. One passage was where it is said, "It is good for a
man that he bear the yoke in his youth." He said we ought to be
resigned to the will of Providence, as we were now bearing the yoke in
our youth. Mr. Campbell appeared to be then about sixteen or seventeen
years of age.
About the time that these warriors came in the green corn was beginning
to be of use, so that we had either green corn or venison, and
sometimes both, which was, comparatively, high living. When we could
have plenty of green corn, or roasting ears, the hunters became lazy,
and spent their time, as already mentioned, in singing and dancing,
etc. They appeared to be fulfilling the Scriptures beyond those who
profess to believe in them, in that of taking no thought of to-morrow;
and also in living in love, peace, and friendship together, without
disputes. In this respect they shame those who profess Christianity.
In this manner we lived until October; then the geese, swans, ducks,
cranes, etc., came from the north, and alighted on this little lake,
without number, or innumerable. Sunyendeand is a remarkable place for
fish in the spring, and fowl both in the fall and spring.
As our hunters were now tired with indolence, and fond of their own
kind of exercise, they all turned out to fowling, and in this could
scarce miss of success; so that we had now plenty of hominy and the
best of fowls; and sometimes, as a rarity, we had a little bread, which
was made of Indian-corn meal, pounded in a hominy block, mixed with
boiled beans, and baked in cakes under the ashes.
This with us was called good living, though not equal to our fat,
roasted, and boiled venison, when we went to the woods in the fall; or
bear's meat and beaver in the winter; or sugar, bear's oil, and dry
venison in the spring.